


Set it on Fire (Watch it all Burn)

by maccabird_23



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:30:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1271765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maccabird_23/pseuds/maccabird_23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The House of Crosby is on a battle-hardened crusade to free the Seven Kingdoms from the thousand-year reign of The House of Kane. The House of Toews is the strategic mastermind that might be able to help but at what cost? The House of Kane is forged by dragons, but as everyone will soon figure out a dragon is only as strong as its bearer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set it on Fire (Watch it all Burn)

Sharp paced the perimeter of the royal tent, keeping a tired eye out at the muddied track that led miles long from the camp into the battle ground. He perked at the sound of the heavy hooves taking stride toward him. Patrick was met by the familiar face of Letang, as he reigned in his black steed mere inches away from his face. Patrick raised an eyebrow and wiped mud tracks off his pristine breast plate, leaving a smudge of dirt atop his Lion crest.

 

“Do you bring word from Malkin?” Sharp asked, as he stared pointedly at the scroll resting on the hip of Letang's horse. He took strides, making a grab for the parchment but halted as Letang unsheathed his sword. “Is the hostility needed Kris? We are allies now.”

 

Letang jumped off his steed, favoring his right side as blood slowly bloomed around his fingers. It didn't seem to deter him as he tried to push pass Sharp, but Patrick took hold of his arm, squeezing tight and Letang growled, glaring at the Winger from the House of Toews.

 

“As you play your little game of dominance, Geno lies bleeding in the medical tent, half unconscious,” Kris barked, baring his teeth at his superior, “and the only order he gave me was to make sure that Crosby received this letter from my hand to his own.”

 

Sharp was not fazed by the strong turn of emotions from the Defenseman from the House of Crosby. Wolves were known for their intense myriad of feelings, something Patrick saw as one of their many weaknesses. Sharp's grip tightened as he smiled benignly at the younger man. “If it were not for our little game of dominance—our skill at playing war—you would be bleeding out on the battle floor and Malkin would be dead. Your little house of mutts would have fallen a long time ago under the dragon's talon.”

 

It was not close to being a fair standoff and Letang blinked first, looking away, toward the medical tents. Sharp took the moment to ease the scroll out of Letang's battle-weakened hands and petted him softly on the arm he had seized moments earlier, before maneuvering him in the direction of the medical tent.

 

“Keep watch of Evgani. Get yourself cleaned up,” Sharp said.

 

Letang nodded, tears wetting his sooted cheeks. Sharp had to refrain, keeping the sneer that threatened to break out across his neutral features in check, as he turned and made his way into the royal tent.

 

Sensing his presence, Toews turned to meet his eyes before any of the other men, who were gathered around the large, wooden table, knew he had entered. The others soon followed suit and Crosby was the first to rush over, but Sharp kept his eyes steady on Toews. Both understood that Sharp's mere presence in that moment and with that small parchment meant that their plan was falling together as hoped.

 

“Where is Geno? Why did he not come in?” Crosby beseeched, fear plain in his every fiber. Lemieux was close at his side, resting a hand on the Captain’s shoulder.

 

Sharp laid a gentle smile across his face as he nodded toward the Captain and Royal Adviser from the House of Crosby. “Geno was detained in the medic tent for wounds suffered in battle, but I have sent Letang to watch over him.”

 

Toews and Sharp both watched as Crosby's face became shrouded in worry. Sharp raised an eyebrow toward his Captain, and Toews made haste as he aligned himself with Crosby's point of sight.

 

Toews took hold of the shorter man's shoulders, searching his eyes and grounding him from wherever he went in his moment of fear. “We all have wounded, Sid. Right now I worry if Saad or Versteeg might be laying out on that battle ground but we do not have time to be alone with our thoughts.”

 

Crosby met Toews’ eyes, clasping his shoulder in a sign of gratitude before nodding at Lemieux. “What news do we have from the front-line, Sharp?” Lemieux asked, going back to the table where little wooden markers laid out their entire battle strategy.

 

Sharp unrolled the parchment, looking it over hurriedly before turning a blinding smile in Toews direction. “All three southern ports of Pyre Vale have been abandoned by command of Captain Duggan, Center Knight and Winger Chu from the House of Kane. We have closed off any means of import or export. They have retreated into the main gates of the city and with limited food and supplies, they are nearly five days away from surrender,” Sharp announced, and in an instant the room was in a roar of differing voices and differing opinion, all self-congratulatory.

 

Captain Staal shouldered Toews away from Crosby, clasping forearms as he pounded on his own Falcon Crest, grabbing the attention of the room. “Sid has done a service to us all by overthrowing the brutal reign of the Dragon, but we cannot pause in our siege. They have depraved sorcery on their side and we must take advantage while they are at their weakest.”

 

A chorus of approvals was hollered from the brothers Benn, who raised their Stag-horned helmet above their heads. “The House of Benn has a battalion of nearly 500 awaiting in the western ends. Give word Sid, and they will fight tonight under the veil of the moon. By morning we could have Patrick Kane, the last of the Dragon Bearers in shackles.”

 

Sharp gave a hurried glance at his Captain, and Toews thinned his lips, slightly shaking his head before turning to the Kessel siblings, who had remained silent during most of the outpour. Toews knew that as island creatures they were prone to waiting, biding their time with strategy more than confrontation.

 

“Amanda, you have been quiet. Do you not think this is a good plan?” Toews spoke loudly, leaning his shoulders toward the younger and more braver Kessel, encouraging her to speak the words her brother wouldn't.

 

The co-Captain from The House of Kessel stepped forward, favoring the Trout head of her blade that she kept sheathed at her hip. “Eric, you say that we should fight when the Dragons are at their weakest—the time right after battle—but are we not also at our weakest. We have neither plan nor strategy for taking down the gates where dragon lurk just inside.”Amanda paused as Captain Benn made a disgruntled noise to her right, moments away from disagreeing. “And Jamie, I know that you pride yourself in the number of men you have at your disposal, but when you say 'nearly 500' what you mean is less than 300, and when you say 'battalion' what you mean is sheep hoarders, farmers, and blacksmiths.” Amanda turned toward Crosby, covering his larger hand with her smaller one. He met her eyes and she could tell he was battling his own demons within his own. “Sid, you will do a disservice to all who have battled and died to free us from this reign if you just send more to their deaths in a moment of zealous.”

 

Crosby gently shook off the hand of the younger Kessel and leaned heavily on the strategy table, knuckles turning white as his fist found purchase on wooden surface that didn't allow any to give under the pressure. “We must not act rash. What we do is wait and plan because as they grow weaker we will only grow stronger.” He turned to Toews, who willed his smirk in check as he met their leader's eyes. “Jonny, what is our plan for the gate and the dragons within?”

 

Toews didn't blink. He had been waiting for this moment for what seemed like ages. “The gate will not withstand the barrage of five healthy armies. The House of Kane might be forged by dragons, but it is held together by mere humans. If they starve in five days, then in ten sickness will spread. Once the gates are in shatters then we attack the people—”

 

Crosby held his hand up, stopping Toews as he spoke. “I do not wish to hurt any villagers. The royal family and the dragons are the only ones we want dead.” Crosby made his point clear, banging his knuckles at the apex of the table, where the royal house was laid out with five little pegs for each royal member from The House of Kane.

 

Toews felt his heart jump, his throat tightening with unwelcome emotions as he looked at one of the pegs labeled Patrick. His Patrick. He swallowed it down, reminding himself that Lions didn't show fear or sorrow but power and dominance. “The few casualties of war are the sacrifice for the better of the many.” Toews declared, meeting Crosby's eyes. “The dragons will try and save their human brethren. This is their weak point. They won't be ready to attack, but we will. A fourth of our army can take down the people and the rest will fight the dragons. By our count, they only have ten dragons. It will be bloody, but I can assure you that by the end of day ten we will have the Dragon Bearer, Patrick Kane captured.”


End file.
